The warm weather's upon us, and you know what that means: It's fun and sun and whining time! Just doesn't feel like summer until we hit the surf and sand and bitch about every conceivable thing. So what's say we pile into the hot car, drive through 25 miles of bumper- to-bumper traffic to get to an overcrowded beach, and just kick back and loudly complain about every facet of this seminal summertime experience!

It'll be great. We'll pick a nice spot that's either too close to the ocean, too close to the parking lot, or too close to a harried mom and her three screaming kids who will kick sand all over us. After being cooped up all winter, it sure will feel nice to spend the afternoon soaking up the rays while we engage in needless finger-pointing about who forgot to bring the umbrella. A few hours in the blistering sun and all of our cares will melt away under the crushing weight of a whole new list of minor inconveniences we'll allow to ruin our whole day.

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At long last, summer's here and I'll never fit into my bathing suit!

I checked the weather report, and it looks like it's going to be beautiful outside. On a day like today, I can't imagine anywhere we'd rather be miserable than at the beach. Oh sure, we could spend the day moaning at the ballpark or wishing we were anywhere but hiking, but it's hard to beat that fresh ocean breeze, the open horizon, and mile after mile of fun-loving beachgoers we'll watch scornfully from afar. Maybe some of them will start a spontaneous game of Frisbee that we can project a lifetime's worth of hostilities onto. Wouldn't that be fun? I've already decided it won't be!

Of course, all that refusing to be seen flying kites or playing volleyball is going to make us mighty hungry, and nothing says fun in the sun like a beach picnic. Let's forget to pack one! That way, there will be plenty of opportunities to complain about the price of the concession-stand food. That first bite of a boardwalk hot dog is going to bring back so many childhood memories of begrudgingly consuming overcooked hot dogs with my overbearing parents—I'll almost be sad when I no doubt drop it in the sand. After all, I will have paid way too much for it!

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We're not just there to eat, though. We're there to swim! And this time of year, the water's going to be the perfect temperature for halfheartedly wading in up to our knees, loudly announcing that our legs have gone numb, and unleashing bloodcurdling screeches at anyone who splashes us. Once I get in that beautiful blue ocean, good luck getting me out fast enough! When it comes to swimming, I'm like a fish who doesn't want to get my hair wet, because I'm too self-absorbed with my appearance!

Oh! And building sand castles! We take ourselves far too seriously to enjoy doing that! Let's be sure to ridicule whoever suggests it first.

The only thing that could complete our day of complaining at the beach would be if one of us got stung by a jellyfish. Then we could spend some quality time together arguing about what the proper treatment for jellyfish stings is, even though none of us has any clue what we're talking about. We'll be having so much fun, we won't even realize we've wasted the better part of an hour on infighting that is totally worthless because there's a first-aid station less than 50 feet away. I guess time flies when you're stubbornly averse to having fun!

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We may be beings possessed of free will who can leave the beach any time we want, thus improving everyone else's beach experience, but it wouldn't surprise me if we stay all day. Summer days like this were meant for kicking back, chillaxing, and loudly airing grievances about any little thing that happens to cross our radar. And when the sun sets, we'll ignore its timeless beauty completely in favor of griping about everything from the sunburns we could have easily prevented to the heavy fried food we actually paid money for.

So come on, you Gloomy Guses. Let's pack up a beach bag and haul it 15 goddamn miles through burning hot sand. I can't wait another second.